


Lucky Strike

by Procrastination_is_my_specialty



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Zuko (Avatar), Sokka's life is in constant danger, and Zuko is protective and vigilant, because protective Zuko is where it's at, like you don't understand, sokka whump, takes place a few years after the war ended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Procrastination_is_my_specialty/pseuds/Procrastination_is_my_specialty
Summary: Sokka is cursed by a witch. What starts off as a simple and somewhat hilarious ordeal, turns into something more deadly and sinister as they learn that the curse’s ultimate outcome is death.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	Lucky Strike

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot I used to write my stories on google doc! I checked my google drive recently and came across so many works that I completely forgot about; this being one of them. I probably wrote this to add some more protective Zuko content out there, because honestly, we need more of them.

Sokka’s nickname growing up roughly translates to “the Jinxed one”, which ultimately describes his unlucky and clumsy nature. He always thought it was fitting, with the way things would constantly break and malfunction in his hands, or the way his gait would often falter causing him to slip or stumble unceremoniously.

Sokka’s luck, or lack thereof, has been a source of entertainment within his family throughout his childhood. And it would serve the same purpose amongst his group of friends, even long after they’ve defeated Ozai and established peace amongst the nations.

While it’s annoying to hear constant retellings of his “graceful moments” as Toph calls it, Sokka wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s one of those things that automatically lifts the mood; causing everyone, even Zuko, to break out into guffawing laughter. Much like it’s doing now…

“Before that happened, I had no idea you could actually slip on a banana peel” Katara exclaims, trying to speak louder so that she can be heard over the roaring laughter that erupts from Toph, Zuko, Suki and Aang.

Katara’s shoulders shake as she tries to hold in her laughter. “You guys should have seen it! I swear his head almost went through the floor.”

“Man I feel bad for the floor” Toph quips and soon the whole room is filled with another round of uncontrolled cackling. Sokka simply rolls his eyes, far too used to being teased like this, and also internally enjoying the warmth and happiness that his misfortune somehow brings to his friends and sister.

It feels nice, having the group back like this. It’s been three years since the war ended, and ever since then, all of them have been busy living their own lives. A small gathering like this, which used to be so frequent and reoccurring have eventually become a rarity. And as sad as it is, it also makes these moments much more memorable and something to be cherished. Sokka glances around at his friends, embedding the image of their bright smiles in his mind.

They’re currently on Ember Island, sitting by the shore in a loose circle, just few feet away from the sea. The lapping waves maintain a comforting and calming sense around them, while the decent sized bonfire offers warmth and heat to combat the slowly decreasing temperature. The sun has only begun to set and Sokka observes its flaring hues merge gently with the ocean as it dips into the horizon, basking them in shades of mauve and sepia tones.

His attention is diverted when Zuko lightly elbows him on the ribs. “Remind me why someone this unlucky is roaming my palace again” he taunts. The fire bender sits cross legged next to him, elbows still prodding at him.

“You’re the one who offered me a spot in your council, dumbass” he rebuts. He then whips a handful of sand from underneath him towards Zuko until he stops thrusting his annoyingly pointy elbows into his ribs.

“You should have come with a disclaimer” Zuko says. “If I had known that I would get tea spilled on me every day, I wouldn’t have invited you.”

“Oh please, there’s no one else in the entire world that would be willing to deal with you. You would crash and burn so quickly without me.”

“Yeah well, I would _literally_ crash and burn one of these days with you around, you’re a walking bad-luck charm.”

Zuko’s laughter is cut short when Sokka jumps on him and tackles him playfully towards the ground until he’s lying on his back. Sokka straddles the other boy and digs his fingers against Zuko’s sides until the other is squealing with laughter.

“Sto- quit it, it was a joke! Sokka- Stop! I’ll kill you” But Sokka is relentless with his attacks, watching with mirth as Zuko squirms and chortles from under him. _That’s what he gets._

Suddenly, Zuko twists to his side, sending Sokka toppling into the ground. The impact throws sand up in the air, which land in Sokka’s eyes, blinding him momentarily. The fire-bender wastes no time and clambers on top of Sokka until he’s sitting on his stomach; effectively trapping him under his weight.

“Get off!” Sokka twists and turns, hoping to dislodge Zuko, but to no avail. Zuko still has a few inches over him and is still packing muscle mass from all his years of training. Sokka grunts and tries to push Zuko off again, but the boy doesn’t even budge. “You’re so damn heavy, I can’t breathe you tub of lard!”

The rest of the group looks on in amusement. All finding it fascinating how these two, with their contrasting personalities, actually managed to befriend each other. The first year they all visited the Fire Nation together, Zuko and Sokka were still awkward and distant. But even then, the very fact that they were somewhat being jovial and pleasant with one another was already shocking enough.

Now, three years later; seeing how inseparable they’ve become is just as shocking and unexpected. If someone were to travel back in time to tell fifteen-year old Katara that not only would her brother be working with the future Fire Lord, but she would see them amidst a tickle-fight in front of her very eyes, she would have killed that person on the spot for spouting such non-sense.

Yet … here they are.

Toph is eventually forced to intervene when the two keep going at it; neither one relenting. She condenses the sand underneath her feet into dense chunks of rock and launches them at Sokka and Zuko. And as luck would have it, all of the rocks manage to evade Zuko entirely; while not a single of them missed Sokka.

And with that, their little reunion ends with another chorus of laughter.

* * *

Sokka is used to being so unlucky that he doesn’t even notice when the symptoms first started. It’s only when incidents started happening increasingly often, and increasingly more noticeable that he starts feeling a little uneasy.

Tripping or stumbling, accidentally dropping a cup or two, bumping into objects, into people, small, negligible injuries popping up all over his body from his unlucky nature ... all of this is relatively normal; something that Sokka knows how to deal with and wouldn’t normally even bat an eye to. But they usually don’t happen _this_ frequently .. right?

As he thinks this, his foot catches on something protruding from the ground and he face plants into the tiled floor of the corridor with a loud, resounding thud. He groans and stays still on the ground for a few minutes, trying to stop his head from pounding.

That’s another thing to note. He doesn’t remember these sorts of incidents being painful like this. He’ll get bruises or small little cuts here and there, sure, but never anything too serious. But recently, things have progressively gotten worse. Every unlucky episode slowly gets little bit more painful, a little bit more dangerous than the previous one and it’s starting to unnerve Sokka. Just yesterday, he actually sprains his ankle after simply bumping it against one of the legs of his chair.

Even a minor injury like that is something already unusual and peculiar. As unlucky as he is, it’s balanced out by the fact that his incidents don’t normally leave any noticeable harm or damage to his body. He could fall down three flights of stairs and barely get any scratch from the ordeal. And he _would_ know, since it happened to him once or twice already. But getting a sprain from a minor impact like that? It just never happens.

He feels warm, familiar hands wrap around his arms and then he’s being hoisted up into his knees. He opens his eyes and meets Zuko’s concerned gaze. “You alright? That looked bad” he expresses.

Sokka swallows nervously, unsure of how to convey the apprehension he has been feeling for the past few days.

“I- … I tripped…”

Zuko’s hands, which were examining his forehead and his temples, settle for a second before he’s met with yet another concerned glance. “Uh yeah … I just saw that”

Sokka shakes his head, struggling to get his point across. “No, you don’t understand. That’s the _tenth_ time today Zuko.”

This only makes Zuko raise an eyebrow, clearly not following his line of thought. “This happens to you every day, I don’t understand why you’re so alarmed about it now.”

Except, Zuko is wrong. _This_ doesn’t happen every day. There’s a limit to his unluckiness, and tripping on his face _ten_ times already when it’s barely even noon yet, surpasses his usual threshold. He’s unlucky, but he’s not _that_ unlucky.

The hands palpating over and around his head finally stop and Zuko releases a sigh of relief. “It looks like your forehead just got scratched up a little. But aside from that; no signs of fractures or concussion.”

Zuko’s hands drag down from his shoulders all the way down to his forearms, trying to inspect for any other possible injuries. “That was a pretty hard fall though. I think you should still go to the infirmary just to make sure nothing’s wrong. I’ll tell the delegates you’ll be absent for today’s meeting.”

Sokka’s mouth opens and closes a few times, still struggling on how to tell Zuko that something feels off. That the waves of bad luck and clumsiness would wash over him more interminably than it ever did, that the bruises get a little bigger, the damage little worse each time. How do you even attempt to articulate something like this?

Zuko crouches a little to meet his gaze, confusion and concern drawing his eyebrows together in a small frown. “Sokka?”

He forces himself to relax so that the tension around his shoulders ease up a little. He nibbles on his bottom lip and decides not to mention anything more for now. He doubts Zuko will even understand what he’s trying to say anyways. Furthermore, they simply don’t have the time to deal with something like this. They have a council meeting to attend to, and plenty of proposals and policies to go over. And Sokka, for one, has not missed a single meeting in the three years he’s been residing at the palace and he’s not about to start now. Especially when his trepidation is probably just due to his over-reactive imagination.

He takes a deep breath and forces a placating smile on his face. “No no, I’m okay. I just need to walk it off” he reassures. Zuko doesn’t look convinced however, but he lets it go for now.

Zuko keeps an arm around his shoulder as they walk and with his helping hand, Sokka manages to make it to the meeting without any further incidents.

* * *

The next day ends up being even worse for Sokka.

He wakes up early, due to that panicked, fluttery feeling that starts in his chest again. He should have known that it forecasts something ominous.

Not even five minutes later, he accidentally slips on one of his robes lying discarded on the floor. The soft, satin fabric of the cloth causes his foot to slip from under him, and he ends up toppling forward into one of his cabinets nearby. The resulting injury isn’t pretty, and he walks out of the room sporting an aching head and a gnarly looking contusion just below his right eye.

When he peeks outside, he notes that the sun isn’t even up yet. With a tired and dejected sigh, he makes his way to the kitchen to get some ice for his rapidly swelling eye.

* * *

Him and Zuko do not see each other throughout the day; both too busy dealing with their own legislative tasks and duties. Sokka feels appreciative of this fact though, since the last thing he wants is for Zuko to see him in his current state.

In addition to the large purple bruise just under his eye and around his cheekbone, he has managed to collect three more injuries as he went about the rest of his day.

A few hours after he face plants into the corner of his cabinet, he slips down a flight of stairs and his left arm snaps with a sickening crunch. Just before lunch, the large double doors leading into the palace somehow closes on Sokka’s foot, creating small fractures just below his ankle. And on his way out of his meeting with a Makapu delegate, in his haste, he ends up colliding his left shoulder into a wall, nearly breaking his clavicle in half.

The result is yet another visit to the infirmary. The palace’s private doctor doesn’t look amused; either because he’s upset about his broken collarbone or he’s annoyed by the fact that this is the third time he has come to visit for today. Sokka would guess the latter.

“Mr. Sokka, I suggest that you take the time and be properly treated. We have a healer available who can mend your broken bones.”

Sokka’s legs bounce up and down agitatedly from his perch on the hospital bed as he inconspicuously tries to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. “And how long would that take doctor?”

The doctor slightly lowers his head and gives him a look over his glasses. “Since most of your injuries involve internal afflictions. It would most likely take around an hour or two for all of your broken bones and fractures to be mended.”

Sokka winces, already knowing that he has to decline the offer for now. Today is a specifically busy day, another reason why him and Zuko have yet had the chance to meet with each other. The day is filled with back to back conferences and meetings involving important delegates, ministers and royalties. As a matter of fact, he has one final meeting with an important figure in roughly thirty minutes. He would simply have to deal with the aches and pains for now until everything is done and over with.

“Just patch me up for now doc. I’ll come back later to get healed after all of my work is finished.”

The doctor gives him another look, but ultimately relents. He wraps his right arm in a sling to immobilize his right shoulder and collarbone, being extra careful since his arms, which he had broken earlier, is already in a splint. Once the doctor is content with his work, he levels Sokka with a glare.

“You must take better care of yourself Mr. Sokka. This…” - he says gesturing to Sokka’s whole body- “is extremely concerning.”

Which is justified because he looks absolutely _ridiculous_. His right arm is in a splint and it is further wrapped in a sling that goes over and around his right shoulder. There’s also a brace around his left foot that extends all the way up to his knees from when his foot got squished by a six-hundred-pound door. Not to mention the blue and purple bruises marring the area around his eye.

If he told someone he jumped out of an airship and survived, they would probably believe him because of how dreadful he looks.

But duty comes first and contrary to popular believe, he doesn’t take his position at the palace lightly. So he takes a deep breath and hobbles his way to his next destination, determined on finishing strong despite the current state of his body.

* * *

The meeting went well, diplomatically speaking. He managed to establish a new trading route with a prospering city that’s only one sea away. Something that so many of his fellow council members have repeatedly tried over and over again, with no success. He would have to gloat about this of course.

But the meeting is eventful for another different reason; he somehow managed to sustain two more additional injuries.

As soon as the minister leaves, the legs of his chair suddenly gives out, which sends him falling heavily on his lower back, directly on top of a splintered chunk of wood. The sharp edge slashes against his skin, and he feels a small trickle of blood run down his back. _Great… just great._

In that same moment, one of the paintings up on the wall comes crashing down, the corner of which connects heavily against his skull. It must have caused a small laceration against his scalp, because he also feels a small amount of blood trickle from the top of his head all the way down to the side of his neck.

Having had enough of today, he decides against his previous idea of avoiding Zuko, to look for him instead. Because, frankly speaking, he’s starting to feel really nervous and fearful for his well-being. He doesn’t know why or how, but he feels like he’s being targeted. As if things around him are actively trying to cause him harm. And as childish as it sounds, he wants Zuko by his side.

The sun is already setting by the time he finds him. Zuko is in the palace garden, peacefully reading a book underneath the shadows of a large, red maple tree. Sokka makes his way over to him until he’s only a few feet away, purposefully stepping on dried leaves so that the other is notified of his presence.

He really doesn’t know how else to go about it, so he starts with, “Zuko … I think there’s something wrong with me”

“What _isn’t_ wrong with you?” Zuko quips lightheartedly, not even bothering to glance up from the book his nose is currently buried in.

Sokka scowls, a little bit annoyed by the comment, but also disgruntled that he’s not being heard properly. Because something’s wrong …. He suddenly feels _off._ He can’t explain it. This uneasiness, the tightness in his chest, the goosebumps all over his skin and the rapid, almost frantic manner in which his heart is beating all of a sudden.

No … it’s not that something’s wrong. Something _is about_ to go wrong. A wave of dread and panic washes over him and grips at his chest with his free hand, willing his galloping heart to slow down.

Zuko, concerned with the lack of rebuttal, turns his attention from the book to regard Sokka. He immediately notes the injuries all over Sokka’s body, and he gapes in shock. “Agni Sokka … what on Earth happened to you?”

Except Sokka isn’t even listening to him. He has a troubled expression on his face and he’s jerkily turning his head left and right, as if looking for something. Zuko puts his book down and holds his palms out, hoping to soothe his agitated and frightened friend.

“Hey, hey… talk to me Sokka, what’s the matter?”

Sokka’s gaze lands on him again, and the evident panic there causes Zuko’s already growing concern to further intensity. “I don’t know!” Sokka exclaims. “I feel like something’s going to-”

There’s a low rumble from up above, followed by sharp, loud cracking noise. Zuko glances up and sees a flash of light materialize in between soft and hazy clouds. The bolt of lightning starts to rip through the auburn sky, forking slowly towards the ground. Except, the path abruptly flickers right before his eyes and its trajectory is now suddenly pointing directly at Sokka.

Zuko’s heart freezes at the realization that Sokka is about to be hit by millions and millions of volts of condensed electricity. He makes brief eye contact with Sokka, and his eyes are wide with fright, most likely mirroring his. Everything slows down as Zuko jumps up from his seated position. Legs pumping against the grassy ground as he frantically tries to reach Sokka before it's too late.

But it’s too fast, and he’s moving too slow, like he’s wading through sea of molasses. He’s not going to make it …. _he’s not going to make it,_ and he’s a fool for even thinking he could outrun electricity itself. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try, not when Sokka’s life is on the line.

Warm chi pools from his arm all the way to his wrist, and Zuko, still a few paces away from Sokka, reaches his hands upwards. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just knows that he needs to redirect the bolt of lightning to keep it from making contact with Sokka somehow.

And to his surprise, his body listens. He watches in astonishment as crackling electricity begins materializing from his fingertips. It takes a while for him to register that he’s generating lightning. He’s _actually_ generating lightning.

The excitement is short lived however because even with the way everything around him is moving at a snail’s pace, the lightning bolt from the sky is still moving so fast. He blinks once, and its tail has already traveled past the clouds, and hovering only a few feet above Sokka.

Panic surges through his veins, and with a loud cry, he intensifies the lightning pooling from his fingers and launches a large ball of electrical discharge towards the sky, just above Sokka’s head.

Flashes of light scatter into the sky when both sparks of electricity collide with each other. Satisfied that the main problem is dealt with, Zuko now focuses his attention on Sokka, who’s still standing too close to the two dangerous masses of current and energy.

Once close enough, Zuko tackles Sokka into the ground and shields him with his own body. His arms wrap protectively around Sokka’s head as sparks of electricity continue to buzz and fizz above them.

They stay that way until everything quiets down, and all he could hear is their rapid breathing intermingling with each other.

Zuko slowly uncurls his body from Sokka to assess the situation. Both lightnings; one from the sky and one from him, are now thankfully gone. He slumps back down against Sokka, who’s still lying on his back underneath him. He could feel Sokka’s heart pounding away against his chest and Zuko takes a deep breath before resting his temple against Sokka’s forehead. “It’s okay Sokka, it’s alright now.”

He closes his eyes for a second, taking a moment to gather himself. The fact that he just generated lightning for the first time is overshadowed by the fact that Sokka almost died in front of his very eyes. The thought of it makes him nauseous, and his mind buzzes, trying to wrap his head around what just occurred. 

After a while, finally sits up and gathers Sokka in his arms. The water tribe member is still shaky and panic stricken, and Zuko runs one hand soothingly up and down his back. “It’s alright, it’s over Sokka, it’s over.”

He glances down at Sokka and finally sees all of his injuries up close. He looks awful and Zuko fails to understand how he has sustained so many injuries in such a short period of time.

“Sokka what’s going on?” he asks, jostling Sokka slightly in his hold. He feels a little bit sorry when Sokka winces from his maneuvering, but he needs answers. He’s certain Sokka didn’t have a single mark on him the last time they saw each other, aside from a small little cut on his forehead.

Sokka swallows nervously before glancing up at him. “I told you … there’s something wrong. I feel like everything is out to get me” he explains gesturing at his broken arm and foot.

“Out to get you?” Zuko clarifies. He cups one of Sokka’s cheek and gazes into his eyes. Seeing the prominent bruising around his right eye results in something heavy settling in his chest. “Sokka, is someone targeting you?”

Because if somebody is … Zuko would put an end to them _very_ quickly. Rage pulses through his veins at the mere thought of it.

His mind buzzes as he tries to think of people that could manipulate and create lightning like that; of people who might have the intentions of harming Sokka … of breaking his arm, his leg. But he draws a blank at the latter. Sokka is well loved around here. He can’t think of anyone who would harm Sokka like this, let alone attempt to assassinate him with lightning of all things.

Sokka shakes his head, looking unsure as he wraps his unbroken arm around his midsection. “I don’t know how else to explain it. But since yesterday, I feel like my luck has just gotten worse and worse and-” he cuts himself off, staring up at Zuko nervously, once again trying his best to express his thoughts coherently. “I- I feel like everything is trying hurt me” he repeats. “I just keep getting hurt over the stupidest things.”

“I understand” is what Zuko says, but it’s a lie. He has no idea what Sokka is talking about. But at the same time, he knows he can’t dismiss it. He can see the evidence in front of him after all- the bruises, the splinted limbs … and there’s also the odd behavior from that lightning that nearly resulted in Sokka’s death.

He saw with his own eyes, how it shifted, as if looking and searching specifically for Sokka. Surely that’s not something you can dismiss.

Zuko rounds his shoulders and stands up, once again hauling Sokka’s body up with him. He has decided to deal with things one step at a time. There’s no point in dwelling over something that he has no answer to. He’ll just do what he can for now. 

“First we need to deal with all of your injuries Sokka, and then we’ll take it from there."

He keeps an arm around Sokka’s back as he stands up slowly. His broken foot causes him to rock and wobble unsteadily and Zuko offers to carry Sokka on the way. But the stubborn idiot refuses, squawking about being a man and some other obnoxious nonsense. 

Once Sokka feels stable and balanced enough to walk, Zuko begins leading them back to the palace, which they have to pass through to get to the infirmary.

On the way, Sokka suddenly winces and grabs at the nape of his neck. It feels like it’s being carved and sliced; like pieces of his skin are being flayed or burned.

“What’s wrong Sokka?” Zuko asks, tone serious and concerned.

Realizing that he’s worried Zuko enough for today, Sokka decides to keep this matter to himself despite the fact that his hand is coated with blood when he removes it from his neck.

Of all the injuries he suffered today, he figures a small scratch like that would be the least of his worries. 

**Author's Note:**

> Things can (and will) only get worse for Sokka from here on out. Get ready for more protective Zuko and Sokka whump <3


End file.
